Darkness That Is Him
by alaricnomad
Summary: Paire. In a future they've worked so hard to prevent, Peter and Claire meet again as the odds play against them. Implied incest, nonAU, spoilers and speculation for future episodes. ONESHOT.


**Darkness That Is Him**

By Alaricnomad

"Peter."

"Peter, where are you?"

Claire's voice, hesitant and soft, cut through the silence, exempt of all other noise- even chirps of the insects and whistles of the wind. Her eyes adjusted eventually to the lack of illumination, making out the faint silhouette of his lean figure, outlined in shadow and blending into the night as if he had originated from the darkness, as if he was meant to be one with the twilight.

There was a deep chuckle, and then his voice, low and rich, laced with a dark sensuality that send an involuntary shiver through her, "What's the matter, Claire, you don't like hide and seek?"

"It's not funny, Peter. I'm not in the mood for games."

"No?" and the dark amusement still colored his voice, "I suppose you're right. Only children play games, and you're not a child any more, are you?"

"No," she replied wryly, "All grown-up, Peter."

"Glad to hear it," he said huskily, his voice dropping an octave as he came closer, less a shadowy phantom down as he stepped into the pallid moonlight filtering down from the skies above them. Against her will, her heart lurched at the revealing sight of him, her breath catching in her throat.

Everything about him was dark, forbidden…swathed down in midnight-black hues, fitting sinfully good to his sinewy body, the dark leather of his duster matching to the jet of his hair, slicked back against a high brow. His face, swarthy and devilishly good-looking, strong and hardened by experiences she could not begin to imagine, the scar etched into the skin below his right eye, hooking down to his cheek, spoke of illicit tales, and still she could not keep her eyes from him.

Eyes…God help her, his eyes…the eyes she remembered as a warm, intoxicating chocolate brown, so opaque now with indiscernible emotion she could not tear away from the obsidian of his eyes, glittering like onyx stone.

She swallowed hard, and found herself taking a step back. She licked her lips, trying to not notice the feral amusement filling those haunting eyes of his. "What are you doing here, Peter? If Nathan finds out you were anywhere near here-"

"Nathan's wanted my head for five years, Claire," his voice sounded again, smooth as dark silk, "It's not any less dangerous for me here than anywhere else. He's the fucking President, love. He had eyes everywhere."

"Then why are you here? Why risk it by coming to the family estate of all things?"

"What, I can't pay a visit to my favorite niece?"

"I'm your only niece."

"Touché."

Even times like this, when she found herself face to face with Peter once more, she had to force herself to remember everything Nathan had been trying to ingrain into her over the past five years since the explosion that destroying a quarter of New York City- the explosion Peter had been responsible for. That Peter was dangerous, that he couldn't be trusted, that the reason her bio-father- now elected leader of the free world- chose to hunt the man he once called brother like the animal Nathan now regarded him as.

Peter was destructive, Peter was dangerous, Peter was wild and untamed, given over to the dark allure of his power…Peter was a killer, not just from the destruction of the city, but the dozens dead by her uncle's hands as they sought to hunt him, the dozens more associated with Peter's one-man campaign against the powerful Primatech organization.

"What are you thinking about, love?" Peter whispered through the dark, his smile crooked and mocking, "Little old me?"

"Why?" she found herself asking him plaintively, not sure what question she was asking specifically, for there were hundreds of answers she had always sought but never gained in the years since she came to the city in hopes of finding him.

Instead, she stumbled over her biological family- and five years later, she was closeted away on at the New York family home while Nathan carried out his plans in Washington, while he hunted and Peter ran, while their friends and family had their lives falling apart all around them, while the powers that once gave them such hope became the very things society feared and loathed in them…what kind of world had they made for themselves?

"Why, why, why…I have no idea, Claire. I couldn't give you an answer if I tried. Why is my brother so insistent on hunting down his own people, why would he take advantage of all the deaths left on my shoulders after the explosion to further his own political position? Why, why, why, why?"

"Why does it have to be like this, Peter?"

"It just does. Life's a bitch like that, love. We learn to cope with it."

She hated that tone on him, the mocking, sweet-laced tone of voice that patronized, simultaneously soothed and stimulated, irritated and thrilled her.

She hated the way the whisper of "love" fell so easily and routine from his tongue, something lingering from spending too much time in Claude's company, a habit he adopted and directed toward her and her alone- twisted the endearment every time he spoke to her, knowing all too well the way she had felt about him- the way she still felt about him.

"I hear you're coping just fine. How is Niki by the way?"

The bitterness was something she could not disguise, and suddenly he was smiling again, amused. "Jealous, Claire?"

"You wish."

"Now, now, love. Jealousy's an ugly thing. Ugly things don't suit you."

"But they suit you? How much blood is on your hands, Peter?"

"Don't even go there! And right do you have to get at me for Niki? What about your big-hearted Southern boy, Claire? I bet your Andy's just an All-American golden boy, isn't he? Just what you need to bring home to Daddy."

"Don't start, Peter. Does it make you feel better to fuck another man's wife?"

"My, your father does keep close tabs on me, doesn't he? What I do with Niki is no one's business but ours. As for D.L…he got what was coming to him."

"What was coming to him!!!? You gave him up to the police, Peter. You and Niki, you let Nathan's people just take him away. And what about Micah? You took away his father."

"I didn't do anything. D.L. tried to take away Niki's son. I just did what had to be done. Micah's growing into a real man. He knows who he is, what he is. D.L. couldn't give him that."

"God, Peter. Are you even listening to yourself?"

"It's not games we're playing. D.L., Isaac, Ted, Matt…it's not going to stop, Claire. Nathan and Linderman aren't going to give up. They've labeled as goddamned terrorists!!"

"Peter…"

His face softened ever so slightly and for a moment, he was just Peter. Vulnerable, real…just a man. She tentatively moved forward and gently placed her hand against his face. His eyes closed, leaning into the touch. "Claire, please…understand. Everybody needs someone. Niki…she's a warm body in my bed…she's an ally fighting at my side. But she's not you. She could never be you."

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying desperately not to give in to the tumult of emotions spiraling through her as he drew ever so closer, leaning his forehead against hers.

They were tired…they were both just so tired.

His breath fanned against her mouth, and his proximity was intoxicating, the warmth of him radiating over her. She whimpered as his hands found her hips, pulling her flush against him. He was close, so close…too close.

"Claire…" her name fell from his lips and it was sweet as it was agonizing.

"Peter…Peter, don't. We cross that line, there's no going back."

"I don't want to go back. I'm already to far gone."

Looking into eyes that had seen too much, knew too much…knew her too well for both of their good, there was only one choice she could make.

If they were damned, they would be damned together…and their fall would be as spectacular as their flight.


End file.
